


Reckless

by mldrgrl



Category: The X-Files
Genre: AU, F/M, Mosquito bites, Sexy Times, pilot, prompt request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:28:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25637338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mldrgrl/pseuds/mldrgrl
Summary: Based off of gif floating around (which you can view here: https://mldrgrl.tumblr.com/post/624215010474868736/spookydanapetrie-mulders-boyish-enthousiasm)  The request was to write a story circa The Pilot to go along with the gif.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 1
Kudos: 57





	Reckless

“Mosquito bites,” he says.

“What?”

“They’re mosquito bites.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I got eaten alive out there myself.”

The rising panic she’s been feeling turns to relief and she’s flooded with a release of adrenaline. She fumbles with her robe, hastily drawing it back up over her shoulders and pulling the knot closed with shaking hands. She turns without thinking, throwing her arms around him in gratitude so forcefully she feels him stumble backwards, but then one of his arms comes around her shoulders and he holds her back, albeit very loosely.

“You’re shaking,” he says, and rubs the side of her arm.

“I’m just...cold,” she lies, through gritted teeth.

He leans into her, stretching his arm out to place the candle he’s holding onto the table beside them and then he wraps both his arms around her. She’s embarrassed by how nice it feels to be held by him and then chastises herself for her weakness. Don’t do it, she tells herself. Not another coworker. Not another superior. She pulls away from him, keeping her eyes on the floor.

“I’m sorry,” she says. 

“For what?”

“I don’t think I’m cut out for this. I’m not qualified.”

Oh god, she thinks. Stop talking. Just shut up, Dana. She braces herself to be condescended to. She doesn’t know if it’s all men, or just her luck that the men she’s had experiences with all have a terrible knack for making her feel even more inferior when she’s at her most vulnerable. And Mulder would have every right. She’s a liability, not an asset.

“Let’s get you warmed up,” he says. 

He guides her to the bed with a gentle grasp on her elbow and sits her down. He unfolds the blanket at the end and drapes it over her shoulders like a cape. She pulls it closed around her like it will protect her somehow. He crouches in front of her and tips his head to the side.

“Can I get you anything?” he asks. “A glass of water?”

“No, I’m okay.”

“What is it you think you’re not cut out for here?”

“I’m not a field agent. I’m a medical doctor. A pathologist.”

“And a damn good one, from what I’ve seen.” 

“How would you know that?”

He shrugs. “Your reports are easily accessible in the database. I read a few. Very thorough and you have an eye for detail.”

“It’s not doing me a lot of good here.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“I know what you think of me, Mulder, but I was given this assignment to find answers and all I’ve found are questions.”

He nods. “And?”

“Don’t you want answers?”

“Of course I do. But, the x-files are about asking the questions that no one else will. And sometimes that’s more important than just getting answers.” 

She stares at him with two simultaneous realizations. He’s completely serious, for one. And despite the hoops he’s made her jump through, he never once tried to discourage her from doing her job.

“Look, I know I’ve been giving you a hard time,” he says, as though he can read her thoughts. “But, these files are important to me and I can’t let anything happen to them.”

“I want to help you.”

“Do you?”

There’s something in his tone that she can’t grasp. He doesn’t believe her, but he wants to believe. Almost earnestly. It kickstarts her heart a bit. She wants to say something reassuring, but doesn’t know what that would be. 

A loud crack of thunder like a gunshot makes her jump and tense. Mulder squeezes her knee once and moves to stand, but she covers his hand and even though she knows she shouldn’t, she pulls him into her and kisses him. It isn’t passionate, but it isn’t abrupt or awkward either. It’s surprising, but warm and soft. He pulls back and doesn’t say anything, but she can tell he’s thinking what she’s thinking. This is wrong, we shouldn’t, but I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop.

He kisses her this time and the blanket falls from her shoulders as she opens her arms to him. She brings him down to the bed with her as she lays back. He hovers above her, one knee on the bed, but still standing. He’s got one hand pressed down next to her head and the other cupping her face, stroking her cheek as he kisses her. It’s not enough. There’s something magnetic about him. As close as he is, she still wants him closer. Her body is crying out for his touch.

Everything happens so very fast and she knows it has to be this way for if they stop to think about it, they’ll just stop. But, that is not an option. She pushes his shirt off and he unknots her robe and she unbuckles his belt and still there are just too many clothes and she can’t get enough. They’re both being so reckless and irresponsible and she tries to care, but she just doesn’t. She only regrets that they don’t even make an attempt at slowing down.

“Oh, god,” is all she can say. He whispers her name over and over. Scully, Scully, Scully. Yes, her body sings in response. Yes, yes, yes.

Now, they’re both trembling and the rain hasn’t even had time to subside. Mulder retreats almost immediately, rolling away from her and hunching over the side of the bed. She still feels too liquid to move, but he’s up and pulling his boxer shorts on and heading to the bathroom. She forces her limbs to work, to push her upright and to bring the sheet up over her body. She doesn’t know where her robe is, or her underwear. She’s leaning over, patting the floor with one hand and holding the sheet to her chest with the other, when Mulder comes back out. He sets a glass of water on the nightstand and hands her a warm, damp washcloth. 

Discreetly, she cleans herself up and watches Mulder flop down in the chair by the window. He puts his head in his hands and braces his elbows on his knees. Her gut twinges in remorse as she takes a sip of water.

“I was twelve and my sister was eight,” he says. “When she disappeared. My parents were at the neighbor’s and I was supposed to be in charge. We were arguing over what to watch on TV one minute and then she was just...gone.”

“Gone?”

“I struggled for a long time trying to remember what happened. They found me passed out on the floor next to the lockbox where my father kept his gun. And Samantha was just...gone.”

“You never found her?”

He shakes his head. “There was no evidence, no note, no nothing. And no one would talk about it. It tore the family apart.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Eventually, I went to school in England. I came back and got recruited by the bureau. It seems I had a natural aptitude for applying behavioral models to criminal cases.”

“I’ve read your monograph on Monte Propps. We studied it, actually, in the academy.”

Mulder snorts a little and rubs his face with both hands. “My success, ironically, is what first gave me the freedom to pursue my own interests. That’s when I stumbled on the x-files.”

“You found them by accident?”

“At first, it looked like a garbage dump for UFO sightings, alien abduction reports, the kind of stuff that most people laugh at as being ridiculous, but I was fascinated. I read all the cases I could get my hands on. Hundreds of them. I read everything I could about paranormal phenomenon, the occult, and…”

“And what?”

“There's classified government information I've been trying to access, but someone has been blocking my attempts to get at it.”

“Who?”

“Someone at a higher level of power. The only reason I've been allowed to continue with my work is because I've made connections in congress.”

“Why would they block your attempts? Are they afraid you’ll leak the information?”

He looks up at her and steeples his fingers, resting his chin upon them. “You’re part of that agenda.”

“I’m not part of any agenda. I told you, I’m-”

“You are, you just don’t know it.”

“That can’t be true. It’s just not possible.”

“I'm telling you this, Scully, because you need to know. Because of what you've seen. In my research, I've worked very closely with a man named Dr. Heitz Werber and he's taken me through deep regression hypnosis. I've been able to go into my own repressed memories to the night my sister disappeared. I can recall a bright light outside and a presence in the room. I was paralyzed, unable to respond to my sister's calls for help.”

“What are you saying, Mulder?”

“We are not alone. The government knows it and I need to know why they’re hiding it. Nothing else matters to me and this is as close as I’ve gotten.” He drops his head back into his hands and scrubs hard at his face. When he looks up at her again, his eyes are red and wet. “I don’t ever talk about this with anyone.”

With the sheet wrapped around her, Scully gets up and moves to him. He slumps back into the chair with a sigh and she sits across his lap, putting her arm around him. He looks up at her wearily and she brushes the hair off his forehead before she places her lips to his brow.

“I want to help you find the answers,” she says. 

“I know you do.”

She tips her head at him in question and he pushes the sheet off of her shoulder to run his hand down her back. His fingertips brush over the marks on her lower back, tingling where he touches her.

“You believed me,” he says. “No one else ever has.”

She stares at his face, wanting to protest, but it’s true. She felt those marks and in that moment, she believed what she knows is impossible. Her eyes fall to his mouth and she strokes his jaw, thumb grazing the mole at the back of his cheek. She wants to kiss him again, but take her time with it. The power is still out and they have all night.

The phone at Mulder’s nightstand rings and they both tense. On the fifth ring, Mulder eases Scully from his lap and she slips into the chair as he gets up to answer. He rubs the back of his neck as he barks a greeting.

“What?” he says. “Who is this? How did-hello?”

“Who was it?” she asks, when he hangs up.

“I don’t know. A woman. She said that Peggy O’Dell is dead.”

“The girl in the wheelchair?”

“Unless there’s some other Peggy O’Dell I don’t know about.”

Scully stands and spots her robe on the floor, along with her underwear. She picks them up and clutches them against her chest with the sheet. Mulder looks away and then brushes past her towards the bathroom.

“I’ll get dressed,” he says.

“I’ll...meet you back here when I’m done?”

“Okay.”

“Mulder?”

He stops in the door to the bathroom, but doesn’t look back.

“Should we talk about...this?” she asks, gesturing back and forth in the space between them.

“Maybe when the case is over. I can’t really...afford to be distracted right now. You understand?”

“I do.” She nods, but feels a pang of disappointment.

“Good.”

She pulls her robe back on, stuffs her underwear in the pockets, and leaves the sheet on the floor before she heads back to her room.

The End


End file.
